


In memory and in time

by dustsceawung



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Memory Loss, Miscommunication, Post-Weirdmageddon, Stangst, grunkles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustsceawung/pseuds/dustsceawung
Summary: Memories come back to Stan slowly. It isn't an easy progress for him or his family. But, Stan hopes, his past is a little more worth it with his brother by his side. Not easier, but worth it.He hopes.





	1. Chapter 1

He had spent most of his life without Stanley. He assumed that he would have gotten used to it over time. He didn't murmur the habitual g'night anymore, did he? He didn't grab a extra candy along with his anymore. He... didn't high-six.

And he has gotten used to it, because it's easier to focus on the new thesis you had to finish before the month ended, or the new monster rummaging through your garbage, or the very unfriendly cannibals of the dimensions he had been stuck in.

By all means, he didn't need Stanley anymore. It's was a non-issue. Your brother doesn't have to well, affect you so.

But Stanley is here, (and not, he's dead because you shot him) and that's the problem, he thinks. He's here, and he's here, but he isn't, in a jarring ways, enough for Ford to glance at his eyes, make sure that they don't have that inhuman yellow gleam.

Memory erased, Ford assumed Stanley would...disappear. Only a empty body with no conscious thought. After all, what was a man without what he knows? But Stan had greeted Mable with awkward smile and a pat, and he thought that it would be the child Stanley used to be. Even as Mable wept, poor child, a foolish hope had raised its head. Hopes of childhood, and the easy comradely they once had.

But it isn't him, either.

Stan never was so unsure, he never smiled so awkwardly, out of place, stunted and confused.

Stanley let him lead him to the bedroom, asks if this is his room, sitting on the bed like maybe he shouldn't be here? Frowning at his brother like he's asking for direction from a random passerby, and Ford is struck with rage, and he wants to scream at him, that no, it's not, HE stole Ford's room, and HE stole the brother he so wished back.

 

Then he remembered that no, he did this. He pulled the trigger. He had, for all purpose, killed his twin.

He is being irrational, and unfair.

So he does what he does best; He retreats to the basement. Busies himself with records and calculations. He reaches for his bundle of half done formulas, but when he raise his head, he holds one 'physic? Not That Hard!'

He frowns. It's a oversimplified, and frankly inaccurate beginner's book. Certainly not something He left in his lab.

He opens to a random page, and next to the grossly inaccurate metaphor about string theory is a rough scribbling, underlining some important bits and leaving a big red indent on a page, where the reader, in frustration had slammed the pen on to the page.

It's Stanley's handwriting.

 

It takes a while to sink in, but he thinks about the thirty year Stan spent trying to open the portal. The amount of knowledge needed to even wrap one's head around the concept, the book. Worn and noted thoroughly, until he moved on to other science books Ford had not bought. He looks at the disassembled portal. The picture of his grand niece and nephews. Gloves where he wouldn't have left it, scraps of paper with unfamiliar calculation just lying around. He keeps all his calculations together in one place. It's the first thing he learned in Backupsmore.

 

He remembers Stanley, sitting on the bed, watching him leave without a word.

 

Suddenly, Ford wants to ask Stan. Is this why he did such a foolish thing, throwing his life away? Is this how Stanley felt, when Ford fell through the portal? Did the guilt rusted him inside out until he could choke from the screams he kept in?

 

He wants to ask.

But Stan won't remember.

"Grunkle Ford? The pizza's here."

He startles, and Dipper grins from the door. He sets Stans book down, put on a shaky smile.

"Ah, my boy. Just a moment."

Ford needs a moment to gather himself, to figure out if Stanley is coming too, unsure if he could stomach dinner with his amnesiac brother.

"Oh, well, come before Mable spikes the pizza with edible glitter?"

Dipper grins, hopefully. Ford can't help smiling back.

He can't say no to that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow I updated again guess this is a thing now. Since the first chapter was Ford pain, this chapter is Stan pain! I like to think that I am very fair with my characters. This chapt is.... still short.... But I'm trying to write more so.. maybe next chapter I'll actuallly reach thousand words. review appreciated, kudos too, tell me if there any typo please, ect, ect enjoy your Stangst!

   At least half of the pepperoni pizza have been overrun with a sparkling monstrosity by the time Ford joined the rest of the family in the kitchen.  
"Well, it's edible glitter!"  
Mabel claimed indignantly. Stan eyed the bottle in her hands. 'Give your daily meal the magic you need!  
"Not in that amount it isn't, Mable. Grunkle Stan, can't you confiscate her glitter bottle? It's the fifth time she ruined our lunch!"  
"Well, that's just overreacting. I eat like that all the time! You just need to accept the WONDER, Dipper!"  
Ford sighed as he took a seat."Mable, not everyone has digestive ability you have. I appreciate the, well, daring taste you've given our lunch, but maybe we should order another pizza..?"  
"Nah, I'll eat the sparkly ones. A little magic might be just what I need to rattle up this old brain, you know?"  
He cracked an awkward grin. Mable made a delighted squeal and tackled Stan in a crushing hug. Ford watched bemused, wondering if he should intervene. Eventually, Stan pushed her away with a grumble.  
"Alright, that's enough life threatening things for today. Let's just eat before the food gets cold, okay?"  
"I love you, Grunkle Stan!"  
Mable blurted, happily putting an visually offending piece of pizza on his plate. He took the plate, blankly staring at the offending piece of food.  
"..Yeah, sure, kid."  
Mable went back to extracting another sparkly piece. Stan stared at his plate, unmoving. The clumps of multicolor...something stared back. The boy, Dipper, was grumbling about the stray glitter on his plate. It was such a strange, quirky sight. Stanley Pines probably dealt with it every other week.  
He was a stranger, though. He didn't have a memory of these people that were longer then two days. He had to stop, take in everything once in a while and absorb that he was here, he was a part of this scene. It was too like a family photo to be real. Sometimes, he was slow in playing a part, because it so felt like a something that should be played on a screen, and he shattered that perfect moments with the fact that the one they really wanted was gone. He was lucky that the girl hadn't taken notice of the pause before he replied.  
"Grunkle Stan, you know that you don't really have to eat that, right?"  
Dipper was looking at him. Oh. There he went again. He gave a noncommittal hum and took a bite. He... well, that really was magical, In a way.  
Maybe this family wasn't quite perfect, Stanley conceded.

   He gagged down the sickly-sweet bite, somehow. Maintaining a straight face was quite a bit harder task.  
"So, kids, have you started packing to go home yet?"  
The men(brother?) asked the kids. Stan winced as soon as Mable's attention diverted.  
"I guess we should, huh. I'll miss gravity falls."  
Dipper said, picking sparkly bits off with a fork. He scraped the glitter off with a morose face.  
"Yeah.. I wish we could stay with you two, even for a while longer..."  
She munched the pizza, deep in thought. She made crossed eyes at the stretching string of cheese. It thinned and thinned until it broke and fall down, limp. Mable sighed.  
"Well, Since you both need to go to high school, It can't be helped. Don't you want to see your parents again?"  
Stanford reasoned. Mable's frustration showed with another bite of the pizza.  
"I really do, but I can't scrapbook summer memories back in home!"

  
What a sweetheart, Stan thought. Scrapbook. Memories. Nice of her to be indirect about it. She got more tact then people assumed.  
"Well, there's always next summer."  
Stan said. Dipper mumbled, his pizza now cleared of shiny clumps.  
"I guess that's true.."  
"Well, do start packing after you've finished your meal, won't you? It'd be a shame if last days of your summer was spent on last-minute packing."  
"If you say soo, Grunkle Fooord..."  
Mable plopped on the table and made grabby hand toward the pizza, having finished her piece.

 

  They ate, the kids scurried upstairs, and Stan started gathering up the plate when the six-fingered hand took the other dishes.

"You can go rest, Stanley. I'll do the dishes."  
"Geez, I can do it. You go down your basement and do your.. whatever."  
Stan snapped. The men looked at him with an emotion that made him twitchy, like he had done something wrong, or would, and it sticked at the back of his head when Stanford thought he didn't notice.  
"Stanley, I don't really have much to do down there now. you could help the kids pack up?"  
Stanley grit his teeth. Was this man as patronizing to the real Stanley? Probably not, he thought spitefully. Or maybe he just naturally is this way.  
"Yeah, uh, the kids said you're some kind of dimension traveler? Do you even know how to wash dishes in our puny earth?"  
"Stanley, I know how washing dishes work-this place does have plumbus, right..?"  
He fixed the men with an unimpressed look. Then again, this place could have had plumbi-whatsit. Maybe he just didn't remember. The men didn't call his bluff and just wilted at his gaze.  
"Alright, you made your point, Stanley. You can.. wash you dishes. But... maybe we should talk?"  
"Talk."  
he, Stanley pines, his name was Stanley, that was what he was supposed to be, he was tired.  
"About, well, what to do after the kids leave, and your conditions-"  
"Fine."

  
The dishes clattered in to the sink. It was a unpleasant sound. Stanford Pines winced. He made sure to stomp on his way out, purposeful, spiteful.  
"...What? Stanley, you're bein-"  
"You can do the dishes. I'm going out for a walk."  
The man stutter some kind of protest. He ignored it.  
"Stanley- plea-"

  
He wasn't Stanley, though. He wasn't who they wanted. Not really.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, this is pretty much just angst about stans past returning! Ohh, Ford. 
> 
> Got a feeling it's a little short, but you know, first taste and all that. Next chapt will be longer.. if there ever is a next chapter.


End file.
